


In the Desert

by kuiske



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Captivity, Gen, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Minor Character Death, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 00:51:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10060061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuiske/pseuds/kuiske
Summary: “Do you have faith, Stark?”(40 days in the desert, 40years; how many has it been now?)Do you have faith?





	

“Do you have faith, Stark?”

Tony starts at the sudden question. The car battery slips and he almost drops it; he fumbles to steady his hold on it, grips it with white knuckles like the lifeline it is.

Yinsen doesn’t ask again. He just _looks_ at Tony and smiles that all-knowing half-smile like he’s already seen right into his soul and found his answer there. 

Tony can’t begin to imagine what Yinsen thinks he might have seen. He shakes his head and feels almost like laughing at the absurdity of it all. He doesn’t even know what _day_ it is, let alone the first thing about faith. 

(40 days in the desert, 40 _years_ ; how many has it been now?)

_Do you have faith?_

*

It would have been easier if Yinsen had asked him if he believes in God.

No, he does not. 

No, he doesn’t believe in God at all. 

He might believe that the Universe shall one day spin a God into existence so that He might condemn one Anthony Edward Stark into Hell for all of eternity. 

He might even believe that that has happened already, and maybe this is it. 

How is he to know that Hell isn’t a damp cave; both hot and cold, and endless, terrifying torture?

All of his sins laid bare.

How is he to know?

*

It would have been easier if Yinsen had asked him if he prays.

He does, sometimes, despite himself.

_~~Our Father who art in heaven~~ _

_~~Hallowed be thy name~~ _

_~~Thy kingdom come~~ _

_~~Thy will be done~~ _

He had done as his Father willed; he had been a Prince to his Kingdom.

_His Kingdom, His Power and Glory..._

But he had learned, long ago, that praying for mercy from anything that bears the name of the Father was an exercise in futility. He prayed and begged, desperate, all of his childhood, all of his _life_ -

But his Father never forgave him the crime of being soft, the sin of being weak. 

His Father never had any mercy at all. 

Other prayers, though, they came easier, when he allowed them to come.

_Ave Maria, gratia plena..._

Mother... 

Thy son, thy son, he is of Devil; there was a mistake somewhere along the way.

And yet, and yet...

_Sancta Maria, Mater Dei_

_Ora pro nobis peccatoribus_

(Pray, even for us undeserving, even for for us condemned; please pray for us Mother!)

_Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae._

_Amen._

_(Amen?)_

*

Would it have been easier if Yinsen had asked him whether he hoped?

Maybe, though he doubted it.

Hope was almost as difficult as Faith. 

(The two of them might have been sisters.)

Tony curled up around the arc reactor in his chest and all he could do was to make sure they didn’t see him crying. 

This he did know: he does have Hope. And this he had known all his life: the Greek Gods had chosen wisely to count Hope among the evils of the world that were trapped inside the Pandora’s box.

Hope was not kind.

Tony had spent such a long time trying to convince himself that he could be happy with what he had if he just managed to kill Hope, somehow. 

(Even if so much of what he had was pointless, was _meaningless_ , was a dark cloud hanging onto him and pulling him down, heavy, so _heavy_...)

But no matter how much he had tried to drown her in drink, Hope had refused to die. Every time, every time she had found her way back to him and she had sunk her claws into him and dragged him back up again, whispering: 

_It could be better. Tomorrow could be better._

And that had been enough. Enough to drag himself back to the lab to see if he could make life a little easier for people who struggled with it, to balance out all the weaponry. Enough to try and unlock a little bit more of the mystery that was existence; and what a joy was success! 

What a miracle was the world, the universe, the future!

(JARVIS had come to life, a person in his own right, and what a miracle was _life!_ )

Hope.

That was all it took now to keep Tony from slashing his wrists with a sharp scrap of metal to spare himself from being drowned and resurrected just to be drowned again and again and again and again and again and again and ag-

Hope and burning anger, desperate, determined all-consuming fury.

Hope.

_Rhodey could be alive._

_He might get to see Pepper again._

_Yinsen could get back to his family._

_He could fix this._

_He could still fix this, there’s still time, there’s..._

_there’s..._

_There’s blood on his hands, so much blood, seeping through the joints in his gauntlets. There’s too much blood, but it’s not too late, Yinsen, it’s **not** , please, come on, Yinsen, come **on** -_

Hope?

Hope was such a cruel thing.

*

_"Do you have faith, Stark?"_

_"..."_

_"Well?"_

_"Yes. Your faith, in me. Lord knows why, but it seems I do."_


End file.
